Of Elves and elves
by Fey Halfkin
Summary: [ON HOLD, see Author's Note] EQ meets LotR, from the very confused viewpoint of a Mirkwood Warrior. They heard wolf howls and knew something strange was out there...


Syndir, son of Syrion, was really starting to hate this nerve-wracking ghost chase. They knew something had been here, but so far only eaten animal bones lightly buried and three isolated tracks marked its presence. Three nights ago a strange howl echoed in their protected forest, with a range that suggested between two and five wolves. Wolves that walked upon two shod feet if the light tracks were read correctly.

It was Amulas who pointed out the scant clues seemed to match times. Not that the cheerful archer smiled about it. In fact, the brown haired elf was as bland faced as laugh lines allowed. Syndir spared his friend a hand on the shoulder even as he glared at the latest scuff track.

"No trail?" he hailed in a normal tone. Surprise failed to touch them when there was only a short, negative jerk of the head answered him. Syndir sighed and let his hand fall. He scanned the brush and foliage for something disturbed with little success while the archer kept tracking. Even the trees leant little enlightenment when asked.

'Firstborn,' the century old tree murmured. 'They slept in my branches, as gentle as leafs of my boughs.'

"How many rested in your branches?" Amulas sung to ask.

"Firstborn?" Syndir sung at the same moment in shock. It was a name of the elves, here before Man was created. But only other Patrols were wandering anywhere near here since the Prince's concern of the howls announced a search. This howling ghost they chased was alarming because it wasn't like anything known. It, or they as the tree spoke, were as light stepping as the elves themselves and eluded the Patrols daily. So far only four groups had sightings these last few days, but for the trees to call them Firstborn hinted at the rarest type of elf: a rogue.

The tree remained silent to both questions. Syndir left Amulas singing to it until the tension he felt lessened a bit. Instead he kept keen eyes watchful as he fumed silently. Something was watching them even now. It didn't shrink as the alert Mirkwood warriors silently made their way toward them, but waited as a predator would. So it was no true surprise when they were set upon; however, they hadn't expected it would be the large spiders. Arrows were nocked and loosened fast enough to create a low wasp-like hum. It matched the screams of dying spider, curses from those remaining. Amulas was the first to draw his sword as the infestation quickly made to overwhelm the small party.

Moments later Syndir felt hand size fangs tear into his shoulder and their paralyzing venom in his blood. Even as he killed the spider another took advantage of the sudden loss of muscle to spit a web around Syndir. And he only heard the short fight ending in the silence, then spider gloating. He felt them drag him a distance before something snarled. Another fight deafened outside the cocoon. Sadly, the son of Syrion didn't stay awake to find out who the winner was.

* * *

"That festering rash itches," a familiar voice complained. Syndir was slow to connect memory to Amulas, and why he felt sluggish. Even as his open eyes cleared up a small child size hand came over and briefly touched his forehead. At his hiss it disappeared. Slowly he turned his head to face the crowded cave as the brunette archer moved to kneel beside him. The overjoyed friend managed a chaste kiss atop his head before tears glazed his concerned gaze. 

"You worried our young 'ghosts', old friend," the archer teased before continuing more soberly. "They thought you dying when the tore you from the webbing. One of their own was injured, but he remains somewhat fevered."

The archer shifted to let Syndir see the others in the enclosure. Indeed the living wolf-ghosts were crouched and lying across from them. Four child- size figures watched them with a mixture of awe and ancient terror. Like elves they had tipped ears and skin that glowed with inner light, but there it stopped. Among the nearly immortal race was a sense of calm wisdom down the ages that made Man and Dwarf to feel they merely plucked things out of the air. But the eyes gleaming in the dark held more.a kind of. beautiful violence in them.

Two blonde haired 'ghosts' crouched protectively near a wolf; a black haired 'ghost' was lying against the predator's fur pelt. The brunette one stood over where Amulas kneeled. Their clothes resembled more barbarian vests then fine tunics. Strange it was then that refined gold decorating one blonde's arms and circled the brunette's neck.

Brunette moved to see him closer. A measuring gaze as he handed Amulas a waterskin, who thanked him. Syndir gratefully accepted it from his friend. Eyes followed their hands as Syndir drank to dispel the dry blandness of his mouth. Amulas continued by asking, "Ever think to thank our rescuers?"

/**No need, High One. We were curious and upset the eight-legged creatures.**/ The mental voice was firm in the backhanded apology. Brunette, the most plainly dressed of them, went to crouch beside Syndir and lock blue eyes on him. On closer inspection it was clear this was no child 'ghost'. Lean, muscular shoulders made him to be an archer, though he wore no wrist guards. Less then five feet in height he maintained a warriors grace as one hand motioned to his friends.

Survivor and he pointed at the blonde without the gold armbands. Startling was the goatee upon the almost-elven face. The 'ghost' kept chewing something, but gave a cautious smile. A moment later he reached up and spit out a partially mushy bit of meat. That he handed to the black- haired one on the wolf's side.

/**/Halfkin**/ Brunette said as Syndir watched the weak 'ghost' accept the food with a small frown, but eating it reluctantly. A better look showed the black hair was actually a deep, dark brown with two locks of white at the temples. Amber eyes.not brown or blue as could be normal.gleaming in the darkness as their owner watched his friend..

The second blonde, gold armbands and loincloth over brown pants, was heading outside the cave. He tossed Syndir's bow and quiver to Brunette, who quickly moved to join him; stopping only long enough to mental say /**Sleep, High Ones. Slingstone and I can hunt for two more tonight**, before departing as silent as shadows.

Amulas was swift in keeping Syndir from trying to join them, but relented in propping him up after a mild glare. Thousands of years together made it plain to the archer that he was embarrassed for him, a Mirkwood warrior, being seen like this. Still, the older Firstborn remained helpful as dignifying as he could. Syndir took the moment to look at their remaining 'ghosts'. And it seemed the weak 'ghost' shared the same thought as Survivor coaxed more meat into him. Amber eyes glanced at Syndir as if to say, '_I endure this so do not complain'_, before closing them to sleep. And that, more then even the predator he lay upon, scarred him. Only elves in fierce pain closed their eyes; so it was understandable when Syndir stirred in alarm.

"Their leader will be back soon enough. Rest. You've pushed yourself too hard this last week," Amulas softly murmured. He looked where Syndir stared, where Survivor sat opposite side to the wolf as his friend and lightly playing with dark brown hair. Nothing more then cautious concern marked those brown eyes which glanced back, then to Syndir with slight confusion. And in that timelessness that the three silently watched, the wolf dozing, it was nearly unnoticed when Syndir finally fell asleep.eyes glazed open in Reverie, for the first time in three days.

* * *

It felt brief before Syndir awoke to find his friend sleeping upright beside him. Amulas's shoulder-length brown hair braids curled around the embroidered tunic collar as hazel eyes stared unseeing in Reverie. Syndir spared a smile at the almost relaxed vision with lingering eyes upon his friend. A howl at the outside entrance of the cave dragged his attention back to the 'ghosts'. The wolf and Survivor were partially out of sight, but both had heads thrown back to harmonize in song; same as the ones that had caused such a stir among the Mirkwood elves. Slight movement let him know Halfkin was recovered enough to be devouring a rabbit barely skinned. The ghost's attention was on his friend as he slowly ate. It was during a pause in the howl that Syndir heard a distant response sung back, which made their remaining ghost perk up eagerly. A glance to the entrance discovered wolf and blonde ghost were gone. 

"Almost as if the haunting time of Men's tales were upon us, isn't it?" Amulas asked in a low tone. "If they think us Immortal perfection, what will they feel of them, who are more wild then eternal?" Syndir turned only his eyes to look upon the healing ghost intent to outside. He could already sense truth in the normally cheerful voice of his friend. For Halfkin had seemed to be more wild then elf among the four when one saw the torn earlobe and faint, long scar along one arm.

/**They will hunt us/ **was the mental voice both elves heard in their heads; this one more sharp and gruff then Brunette's. /**With clubs, spears and fire they attack. It is their WAY**./

Startled Amulas and Syndir froze as amber eyes turned to face them. Even as Syndir opened his mouth to attempt speech Halfkin turned away, after a hard look to their hands. A confused pain on the ghost's face made it clear to leave him alone. It was thankful when the other three ghosts returned not too long afterwards. The Son of Syrion had taken that time to view his hands in some detail unable to see what had upset the ghost. Five slender fingers emerged from the wrist guard glove, barely tanned from the centuries of sun. The tips were calloused but that was all. A questioning look at Amulas showed his friend was also clueless.

Brunette presented Amulas three dead birds even as he gladly shed the bow as big as him from his back. The two blondes, Slingstone and Survivor, were happily talking as they came in his wake. Those two were quick to include their Halfkin in what was becoming a happy gathering, with a dead snake shared among them to snack on. Seeing these almost-elven-children eating like barbarian Men was disturbing so Syndir looked instead to the birds in his friend's hand. They were beautiful with dark bronze feathers perfect for arrow fletchings.

/**Neither Dreamberry or Dirk will believe us outside of Sending/**/ the familiar mental voice of Brunette 'said' ruefully. /**And calling you High Ones -is- correct. Your bow is too tall to pull well. Slingstone had to hunt those./**

The other three ghosts and wolf gathered their few belongings as they nearly danced out of the cave. Slingstone was fairly glowing in excitement by himself. And even as they laughed softly, too low for any but an elf to hear, their footsteps were silent. Brunette smiled and clasped Syndir's forearm: warrior to warrior. Four fingers loosely clenched the thick leather hide arm-brace.

/**We need to return to the Tribe quickly, or not even Woodsmoke will calm my mate's wrath. Farewell Cinder and..Amulents./** And then Brunette clasped Amulas's forearm. A happy grin revealed teeth made to rend meat like Men before he trotted after his friends. Only the bones of the rabbit Halfkin had been eating earlier remained as proof of their existence.

Syndir darted to the entrance in time to see two mounted on the wolf, the other two easily keeping pace as all four disappeared into the Forest. Like ghosts they were quick to vanish from keen elven sight in minutes. Amulas came up to rest a hand on Syndir's shoulder, the other cradling the birds. A cheerful smirk in his voice as he asked, "And shall we tell Prince Legolas that we've found the oddest kind of hobbit? Small little elves who eat raw meat and have furry faces at times?"

Syndir spared a friendly slap at the archer's mid-drift as his eyes followed them. It was a strange joy in seeing the ghosts vanish from Mirkwood's borders and beyond. "Nay, Amulas. Truth is far better." He turned his head to share a grin with him. Absent-mindedly opening/closing a raised hand in front of him as he recalled the child-warrior's four fingered grip and started understanding their reaction to theirs. And both heard a far distant howl of wolves calling lost kin home and echo, fade, and disappear before they too went home.

* * *

Author Note: 

This is an AU for obvious reasons.

The first chapter was part of a story contest one-shot in my ElfQuest holt, and not for avid Lord of the Ring fans. I knew enough LotR to do a brief contact between the two worlds but never claimed to be an expert. I based this way after the Ring is destroyed and many of the elves are gone or going. However; as this is more for EQ readers then LotR I refrained from re-naming Mirkwood and other details a fan might obsess over.

At first I got support and encouragement to continue 'Of Elves and elves': to expand on the interaction beyond what had been a one-shot bit of fun.

First story I had up on FF.N that wanted more. So I went and tried to put up a second chapter, which went well at first, but then all I got was negative '_you suck'_ reviews. I took down the ones that offered nothing else for criticism, but another would just pop up! So I've taken down chapter two until I go and review the LotR world for better detail. Nothing against Tolkien but I get cross-eyed quickly with his writing style and so it will be a time before I get through the books recommended by Dante in Reviews.

I, personally, don't plan on rushing the re-meeting of the two worlds. There is just so much the two elven kinds can misunderstand that I see no reason to throw all of it in the reader's face. So far Syndir has realized the difference of sleep (vs their Reverie), four-fingered hands (to their five-fingers), riding predator wolves (vs hunting them), and how much more 'barbarian' they seem to act then the First Born.

The elves of Middle Earth are leaving for the Grey Lands, as will Syndir soon enough. This is the last elven city. King Aragorn of Gondor hasn't died.

The elves of Abode "Two Moons" are following the pull of the Palace, but they feel no need to leave this world being left to Man. They still hunt, howl and live free for this is home.


End file.
